


What Could Have Been

by Crowoxy



Series: Platonic Paladins and Aliens [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Child Neglect, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Platonic Relationships, and the happiness did not last, it started so happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 16:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12686001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowoxy/pseuds/Crowoxy
Summary: Lotor is only a few decaphoebs (years) younger than Allura and it was just easier for him to leave Daibaazal for Altea. A what-if scenario where if Lotor grew up on Altea, what changed and what stayed the same?Day 7 of the Platonic VLD Week - Free/ Alternate Universe





	What Could Have Been

**Author's Note:**

> Is this extremely late? Yes, but hey it's like several thousand words long, so it works? Idk, this thing just didn't want to end much to my keyboard's dismay.

The day Lotor was born on Planet Diabaazal was cloudy and quiet. Honerva was exhausted after giving birth and passed out soon after, leaving Zarkon alone with his newborn son in the medical center. Lotor gazed up at Zarkon with bright blue eyes framed in yellow, little tufts of grey-black hair that he inherited from his mother grew in patches on his head.

There were hundreds of things that needed Zarkon’s attention to run his kingdom, but today at least, he could put that off to the side to be with his wife and his new son. Lotor sat quietly in his arms, the only sounds he made were huffs once in awhile. It wasn’t until a few vargas later when Lotor started squirming, his face scrunched up in mild displeasure. Zarkon didn’t know how a newborn could look mildly displeased but Lotor managed it.

Zarkon thought it was precious until Lotor finally started crying and one of the nurses came flying in to take the babe from Zarkon’s hands. The Emperor was more than a little glad for the nurse’s timely arrival.

When Lotor was a few phoebs old, his parents took him along for a trip to meet his godparents and godsister, the royal family of Altea. Naturally, Lotor was too young to remember the trip, but Allura wasn’t.

She was a whole three decaphoebs old and ready to run the world and that included tiny babies who made weird faces and sounds. The only problem was, the baby couldn’t follow her orders because he couldn’t move and only babbled. What kind of leader had to go grab the sippy cups by herself when there was supposed to be someone else to do it for her? She was too busy ruling to grab sippy cups!

“Coran, Coran!” Allura shouted, getting to her feet. She had several subjects, of course. So if one person couldn’t fetch her things for her, someone else could. Brilliant!

“The best child sitter man!” Coran strolled into the room a tray of snacks in his hands. “I’ve brought your favorite snacks, Princess. And some lovely mush for the Prince.”

Oh, there were lava lump cakes! Allura loved lava lump cakes. Lotor cooed at the sight of his special bowl one of his nannies had packed into his bag for the trip. Coran swooped down and placed the tray on the floor, scooping Lotor into his arms from his little playpen and into his lap. Allura absolutely and completely walked elegantly and gracefully like the future Empress she was -she actually tripped a little on her dress, but since her audience did not react, Allura ignored that fact - and plucked a cake from the tray and into her mouth.

“Careful, Princess,” Coran chided, “those may still be hot.” Coran had Lotor sitting up, back against his chest as he fed small spoonfuls of the baby food to Lotor.

“But they’re my favorite!” Allura swallowed her piece of cake. “Coran, go get me my sippy cup!”

“Hmmm,” Coran looked around the room, “I thought I heard my Empress speak, but there was no magic word?”

“Coran! _Pleeeeaasssseee_ get my sippy cup?”

“Ah! There is the Empress with her polite manners.” Lotor giggled as Allura pouted, his mouth full of food.

“But Uncle Zarkon is an Emperor and I’ve never heard him say please!”

Coran let out a distinctive humph. “Zarkon is the Emperor, sure. But never have I seen a ruler so impolite and I grew up with your father! It wouldn’t kill him to say thank you once in awhile. When you grow up, Princess, be sure to use your manners! It’s very important!”

“Fiiiiiiine.” Allura groaned. “I’ll keep being polite, although I want it known that I think it’s silly! Can you get my sippy cup now?”

“Of course, Princess! Here, you hold on to Prince Lotor, he might be a little fussy, but don’t worry about it.” Coran made sure Allura was sitting down before carefully placing Lotor in her arms. He was almost too big for Allura’s arms, but just almost. She was _three_ decaphoebs old and was definitely big enough to hold a baby.

Coran headed to the kitchen in the nursery reaching up to the shelf that Allura couldn’t reach yet to pull down her favorite cup. Coran had picked it out for Alfor to give to his daughter for a present, and Coran would be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased that Allura preferred this cup to the dozens of others that Alford’s associates had given her for birthdays. _Did Lotor have his own sippy cup?_

In the four quintants the Galra Royal family had been here, Coran had seen Zarkon and Honerva with Lotor only once: when they first arrived and accepted Coran’s offer to watch Lotor while they mingled and got settled. And Lotor had never cried for his parents while being with Allura and Coran. In fact, the king and queen of Altea had seen Lotor more often due to them making time in their day to spend it with Allura.

It broke Coran’s heart to see how content Lotor was away from his parents at only a few phoebs old. At his age, Allura would nearly break the castle windows crying if she was away from either of her parents for more than a varga.

Zarkon and Honerva were good people, and excellent at their jobs; they just weren’t good parents. But it didn’t matter, in the end, Lotor needed to be with his family just as Coran needed to be with his.

“Coran! Lotor is pulling at my hair!” He heard Allura shriek from the other room. Coran grabbed the sippy cup decorated with dragon wings and scales and sprinted out.

“I’m coming, Princess! Don’t worry, Sir Junibery is here to save you from the cute baby!”

 

* * *

 

When Lotor was eleven decaphoebs, he asked his parents if he could move in with his godparents on Altea.

It wasn’t that he hated living on Daibaazal, not at all. It was home and he would miss it terribly. But Altea was where mother had refined her science skills and studied from the ground up and Lotor wanted to follow in her footsteps. The only lab of note on Daibaazal was mother’s own lab, and Lotor would feel terrible if he messed any of mother’s experiments by getting underfoot.

Of course his parents granted his request. And Lotor had thanked them before departing.

There were no bags to pack; his parents hadn’t even noticed he had been off planet until he requested an audience with them. All of his things were already on Altea.

Lotor didn’t blame his parents; as the Emperor of entire planet and the foremost researcher and scientist of quintessence and the rift, naturally they were both very busy. It was normal that he only saw them for meetings in the throne room and he was free to do as he wished as long as he didn’t disturb them.

Coran had practically raised him anyhow, and Lotor thought that was probably for the best. Uncle Alfor and Aunt Romelle both said he was welcome to stay with them and since Lotor was constantly sneaking out to leave Daibaazal, he may do it where someone might _notice_.

They might notice, but Lotor didn’t think they could catch him in the act; he was very sneaky for his age. But he appreciated the sentiment, which is why he decided to move. Besides, Lotor doubted Zarkon and Honerva would remember he had left, or even care to find where he was.

 

* * *

 

When Lotor was seventeen decaphoebs, war broke out. Uncle Alfor had gone to Diabaazal to talk to his biological father to evacuate the planet due to the rift expansion. It hadn’t gone well and Allura had put up a fit when Alfor decided to go back with the other Paladins of Voltron on some theory to close the rift.

“He and Aunt Honerva are obsessed with that rift, Father!” Allura argued. “Why in the world would they want to close it now?”

“People change, Allura.” Alfor said tiredly. “Maybe they realized the futility of their actions. But my friend asked for my help and I will of course give it.”

“If they realized the futility of their ways, then they might have bothered to call Lotor to tell him that they remember he exists!” Allura snapped. She had always been more enraged at the distant relationship Lotor shared with his parents, then Lotor himself. The Galra prince had lived with them since he first decided to move to Altea all that time ago. In that time, he had only gone to his home planet a handful of times, usually due to some function that the royal family needed to be present at. There wasn’t much time to play catch up during those visits.

“Allura!” Alfor said sharply. “How Lotor and his parents interact, is none of our business. I know you care strongly about this, but let Lotor deal with how he sees fit. In the meantime, I shall be going to help my friend.”

“Really, Allura. As always, I am grateful at your marvelous bout of fury, but it is still unnecessary.” Lotor patted the top of Allura’s head, grinning as she swatted it away. He knew how much Allura disliked the height difference between them, and would have permanently shapeshifted to be taller if it didn’t take so much energy to maintain.

“But really Uncle Alfor, do be careful.” His parents requesting assistance to _close_ the biggest scientific discovery ever found? “It seems suspicious Zarkon is calling you and the other Paladins over to close the rift.”

“Both of your worries and concerns have been noted.” Alfor smiled at them both. “And Lotor, please stop calling your father by his name. You know Coran will throw a fit if he finds out.”

“Yes, Uncle Alfor.” Lotor rolled his eyes. “Actually, may I be permitted to go with you? It has been some time since I last went to Daibaazal; perhaps while you work with Father to close the rift, I can speak with Ho- Mother?”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Alfor turned his gaze to Allura. “Allura, before you ask, I would like you stay here on Altea.”

“What? Why can’t I go with you? I can help.”

“I know and I am counting on that help.” At Allura’s confused stare, Alfor explained further. “Daibaazal is at a critical stage right now where it is probably quintants from imploding. I need you to coordinate relief efforts on Altea and set up places where we can provide shelters for any Galra in case the worst happens.”

“And I presume I am to assist in the evacuation efforts on Daibaazal?” Lotor asked.

“If necessary,” Alfor agreed.

 

* * *

 

It turned out the necessities were needed. Lotor had spent most of the time on Daibaazal ignoring his emotional shock and running around getting citizens into airships and off the planet.

His mother, Honerva, hadn’t recognized Lotor when he knocked to enter her chambers. She had been too lost in her mind, entrapped by thoughts of quintessence and the rift and it hurt more than Lotor thought it would.

It had always seemed that his parents had forgotten about him; it shouldn’t have been so surprising that it actually happened. He couldn’t help but feel it was his fault when Honerva dashed out of her quarters, half mad and wearing nothing but her robes towards the rift and Lotor have chase. If he had stated on Daibaazal, made himself louder so Zarkon and Honerva would be forced to pay attention to him instead of running away, would this still have happened?

Would his parents still have jumped out of the black lion and directly into the rift if they knew that Lotor still cherished them alongside Allura, Coran, Alfor, and Romella?

He tried not to think about it as he jump started the evacuation procedures, shouting that he was Prince Lotor, son of Emperor Zarkon, and if everyone could please get off this planet before it crumbled in a few vargas, that would be _fantastic_. It was chaotic, and many did not listen to him until a tremor hit the ground and split it into pieces. People were much more willing to listen after that.

“Lotor! We need to go!” The red lion touched the ground in front of Lotor and he sprinted inside, ushering a few other stragglers up the ramp with him.

Alfor sat in the pilot seat, visibly shaken. As soon as Red’s mouth closed, they were off, Alfor turning around to speak to Lotor.

“Not now,” Lotor shook his head, “We need to take care of the planet first before it expands any further.”

“Ever the pragmatic one, aren’t you?” Alfor smiled weakly at Lotor. He tried to smile back, but Lotor knew it was a grimace at best. “Is everyone off the planet?”

“Yes. The commanders of the military already flew around in the transport ships to pick up anyone outside the cities. Trigel, Gyrgan, and Blaytz are going around one more time and will then give me the confirmation to drop the rift.”

It only took six vargas before Alfor received the confirmation he was waiting for and set missiles on Daibaazal’s surface, around where the comet had landed before Lotor was even born. It didn’t take long for the rift to collapse and take the surrounding area with it. The Galra squeezed in the cockpit with Alfor and Lotor cried as their homeworld crumbled into dust; Alfor had tears running down his face.

Lotor stayed dry-eyed and still, never taking his eyes off of the destructive sight even as the Red Lion flew back to Altea, towing the Black Lion behind her.

 

* * *

 

“It wasn’t your fault.” Lotor didn’t jump as Coran sat next to him, a hand clasping his shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself for your parent’s mistakes.”

“I’m not,” Lotor protested, “I am simply… thinking about their deaths.” The Paladins of Voltron had been thorough in pulling everyone from Daibaazal, including the unmoving bodies of Zarkon and Honerva. A funeral would take place tomorrow for the ruler of the Galra, organized by Alfor himself. And Lotor was expected to speak during the ceremony.

“A good thought a day, keeps the brain quite healthy, as my grandmother used to always say! But, you are in your moping corner and Allura is quite concerned about you.” Lotor’s favorite place to hide was up near the ceiling of the castle, where the beams interconnected to form a large enough seating area with a window with an excellent view of the outside world.

“And you decided to come up here even if you don’t like heights?”

“I don’t mind heights, I’m simply highly respectful of their deadliness and would prefer to stay closer to solid ground.” Coran scooted closer to Lotor. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Lotor could have deflected, could have walked away from the conversation and dealt with it as he normally did: on his own with minor complaints to Allura. “Do you think my parents forgot about me because I moved to Altea when I was so young?”

“What makes you think that your parents forgot about the most important thing I’ve ever seen?”

“That’s biased; you got to see me everyday for the past six decaphoebs.” Lotor reminded Coran.

“Well, someone had to do the dishes and sure wasn’t going to be me.” Coran smiled at Lotor. “Now, what’s all this fear about people forgetting you?”

“Not people, just… Honerva didn’t know who I was.” Lotor leaned against Coran. “It was only a few ticks before she ran to off to go jump into the rift for more quintessence, but how long has she forgotten me for?”

“Don’t jump to conclusions about your mother right away, Lotor,” Coran chided, “the quintessence overexposure may have derailed her thought process into nothing but wanting more quintessence. I’ve seen this before with other addictive substances. But, even so. Just know you aren’t alone. I’m not going anywhere, even if you wanted me to.”

“Thanks, Cor-” Sirens blared throughout the castle, and Coran and Lotor quickly jumped down to the floor as a servant ran through.

“Emperor Zarkon has just declared war on King Alfor and Altea!” They shouted.

Lotor felt his heart stop. “What?” Before he even had time to process it, his feet were leading him out of the hall and towards Uncle Alfor, Coran close on his heels.

Up on the screen in the command center, Lotor’s father filled the screen. But he looked…. different; purple eyes glowed where before they had been yellow and he seemed bigger somehow.

In the streets, the Galra refugees devastated by the loss of their home, were revitalized by the awakening of their Emperor, and quickly took control of the ports and science facilities where the experimental weapons were stored. Altea was not prepared to fight against the hordes of Galra many of them had just rescued from Daibaazal and it wasn’t long until most of the major cities of Altea were in flames.

“Blaytz, pick up any children you find and take them out of here!” Alfor bellowed into his communication device.

“No can do, boss!” The blue paladin’s voice was accompanied by sounds of lasers firing and thuds as something heavy hit the ground right at his feet. “I’m too busy here and then I’ll be taking a transport back to my own planet in case Zarkon turns his fleet there next. I’ll send one of younglings in my stead.”

“It doesn’t matter who, just get them out!”

“Copy that! Meera! Go to the Blue -”

“Father, what can we do to help?” Allura stood shoulder to shoulder with Coran and Lotor behind Alfor. Lotor was focused and Alfor knew he was forcing himself to think of anything but his father.

“I need you all to start preparing the castle for take off; I’ll set a wormhole to go off once you clear the atmosphere.” Alfor would need to hide the black lion in the castle; if Zarkon was adamant about getting  more quintessence, the first thing he would do would be to snatch the head of Voltron. Alfor needed to make sure that didn’t happen and that meant getting the Castle of Lions out as soon as possible.

“Grygan, Trigel, what’s your status?”

“I’m off planet.” Grygan has said. “Had to go back home for an emergency. What’s going on?”

“Zarkon died, came back to life, declared war on Alfor, Blaytz took it as a challenge, and I’m guessing we’re going with Plan Drop This?” Trigel grunted as her fist hit something soft.

“Do you need me to come to Altea?” Grygan asked, “I can be there in a few vargas.”

“Altea is done for, my friend. We’re evacuating everyone off planet as quickly as we can, but there are far too many dead.” Alfor laughed hollowly. “I’m sure Zarkon is seeing this as some sort of cruel irony.”

“Alfor, you cannot expect me to not come in now!”

“No!” Alfor said sharply into the comms, Coran and Allura winced at the tone, busy getting the Castle of Lions ready for flight, but not too far away that they couldn’t hear what Alfor was saying. “Grygan, I need you to take the yellow beast as far away from Zarkon that you can. He will use them to open another rift, and we cannot let that happen. Trigel, leave as soon as possible and do the same.”

“This is ridiculous, Alfor. You may be second in command of Voltron, but that does not mean I will follow stupid orders!” Trigel’s words were just as sharp.

“You must, the both of you! Zarkon will win this fight, there is no doubt. Altea was not prepared to fight a war, especially not from heartbroken refugees on the ground and the Galran militia from above. Go and protect your homes, for Zarkon will come after you next.”

“I pray we’ll meet in the afterlife then, you great big klanmüirl,” Grygan hissed after a long pause. “Because I will punch you hard enough that you’ll break something even while dead.”

“Understood.” Although they couldn’t see, Alfor smiled at the communication device as the line went silent.

It was time to get back to work.

“Father…” Allura took a deep breath, “What do we do?”

“Are the commands all put in?” Alfor was relieved when Coran nodded, “Good. Allura, I need you to come with me to place wards on the Black Lion’s hangar. Coran, set up the coordinates to someplace remote. Lotor, I need you to… Where’s Lotor?”

No one could answer him, but Alfor knew the only place where Lotor would have gone. “Quiznack.” He cursed.

 

* * *

 

Lotor didn’t think he would ever forget the sight of thousands of bodies, Altean and Galran, motionless all around him, piling up in the burning streets. It was hard to believe that barely two quintants ago, everything had been normal and now everything was gone. Lotor felt sick.

Something drilled through his leg and Lotor tried not to cry out as his knee buckled beneath him and he fell to the ground in surprise. Rolling over, Lotor saw an Altean woman crumpled on the ground, blaster held in shaking hands.

“Galra scum,” she hissed, spittle and blood flying from her mouth. “My daughter goes to help your kind and this is how you repay us! With death and betrayal!” The shot had been nothing more than a graze, easy to ignore and move back onto his feet.

“I am sorry, ma’am,” he whispered, walking towards the fallen Altean.

“It’s too late to be sorry.” She spat back, “You may have lived with us for decaphoebs, Prince Lotor, but these are _your_ people who have forsaken basic decency!”

“What would have me do?”   
The elderly and injured Altean grinned toothily. “Kill me, Prince Lotor. I hear your kind is good at that.”

His sword was buried into her neck as soon as she finished her sentence. “Very well.” Lotor said to her corpse as he pulled his sword back out. He needed to move and quickly. Fa- Zarkon would be landing on the planet any tick now and Alfor needed more time to set the wards unless he wanted Zarkon to simply storm the castle and take what he wanted.

Lotor could be a good distraction; at least for a few dobashes.

 

* * *

 

The wards were set and the Black Lion was locked away until all four other parts of Voltron were present. Allura had been placed in a cyropod and Coran had sworn to do the same once the ship made it through the wormhole and the autopilot system set up to take them to the coordinates Coran punched in on the other side of the galaxy.

Alfor flew in the Red Lion, both thanking Lotor for being clever enough to know Alfor needed some way to distract Zarkon, and cursing at him for making him worry. He should have been in a cyropod with Allura and Coran, hiding any biometric scans until the Galra slowed down the hunt for the castle and the systems would reboot. But he wasn’t and Alfor needed to do everything in his power to fix that.

Through the smoke and ash, Alfor saw the outline of a large cruiser, the same one that had held the bodies of Zarkon and Honerva. And right in front of the ship, were Lotor and Zarkon, two fallen Galra soldiers bleeding out by Lotor’s feet. Or maybe the blood belonged to Lotor, who was holding a hand to his side, his outerwear spotted with red.

“And so the traitor finally comes!” Zarkon lowered his arm; the halberd in his arm shrunk down to its default bayard form.

“I see you’ve finally arrived, Uncle Alfor.” Lotor looked worse for wear; as Alfor hopped out of the Red Beast, he noticed gashes in Lotor’s armor where a blade most definitely connected.

“Of course I did. Can you move?” At Lotor’s nod, Alfor let out a sigh of relief. “Good, get to the beast as soon as you can. She should know where the castle is for you to meet up with Allura and Coran. Get yourself in a pod.”

“What about you?” Lotor asked, sword still raised, never taking his eyes off of his opponent.

“Don’t worry about me.” There’s another ship I can use nearby.”

“For all of your negotiation skills, you are still a terrible liar.” Lotor took a step back.

“If the both of you wish to converse instead of fight, you should just tell me now where the rest of the parts of Voltron are.” Zarkon said flatly.

“Father, please, why are you -” A blast from a cannon shot at Lotor, the young Galran prince screaming when he couldn’t dodge out of the way completely. Even only being clipped sent Lotor tumbling off his feet, smoke rising from his suit.

“You are no son of mine.” Zarkon held his newly transformed bayard over his shoulder, face holding no remorse for firing upon his own child. Purple eyes gazed coolly at Lotor as he struggled to move to his feet, keeping off of his right side as much as possible.

That was when Alfor struck, sword moving through an uppercut motion. Zarkon managed to jump out of the way, but his bayard was still a cannon and Alfor managed to hit it sending it flying out of Zarkon’s hands.

“Lotor, go!” Alfor commanded, hoping he would be able to make it up he Red Lion’s ramp by himself. Lotor may have not have been struck at full blast, but any hit from a laser cannon would leave behind damage.

“How dare you?” Alfor hissed at Zarkon; the Emperor had been his friend so long, and the King of Altea never even considered that Zarkon might end up so cruel. “Lotor is your _child_! How could you even point a weapon in his direction?”

Zarkon found his feet, calling his bayard back into his grasp, forming the great sword Zarkon was so fond of.

“Any child of mine would never have left his home world for traitors. He would have stayed.” Zarkon moved quickly, sword singing through the air as he swung downward at Alfor. Alfor grunted as he blocked the swing, arms nearly buckling at the sheer strength of the attack.

He would only be able to delay for so long.

_Red Beast, please get Lotor to safety._

Alfor didn’t know how many dobashes it was before he heard his lion purr and take off. He smiled at Zarkon, glowing slightly as his magic opened up a wormhole and the red lion flew through.

“You’re never going to be able to find the black lion, Zarkon.” Alfor laughed. Whatever else happened, Alfor knew Zarkon would not be able to open another rift.

“Do not underestimate me, old friend.” Zarkon growled. “I know you sent that child to hide with the black lion; it will be a simple matter to track him down, no matter where he is in the galaxy.”

“You are a fool, Zarkon.” Alfor shook his head. The fact that Lotor had felt more comfortable living with Alfor and his family rather than his own parents had never sat well with Alfor, but he had never wanted to say anything. Lotor had been fine with the arrangement, finding people who actually remembered he existed, and when Alfor had brought up the topic causally to Honerva and Zarkon, both had looked slightly relieved, if guilty for it.

Of course, now Zarkon felt differently.

“If you actually knew your own child,” Alfor ducked under a blow that would have crippled him, “You would know how resourceful he is. You’ll never find him.”

Zarkon growled loudly, teeth baring and he moved quicker than Alfor expected, backhanding his great sword directly into Alfor’s chest and flipping the edge around so it stabbed him right below his rib cage. “You are the bigger fool, Alfor.” A flash of light, and Zarkon’s bayard has returned to its base form and Alfor fell to the ground. “You presumed to tell me what to do.”

Alfor lay on the ground, the hole in his chest bleeding sluggishly as Zarkon walked away, calling for his troops to find any of the lions of Voltron for the glory of the new Galra Empire.

_Stay safe, all of you._ Alfor thought, staring after Zarkon until he could only see blackness.

 

* * *

 

Lotor had crawled his way into the red lion’s hangar; he wasn’t proud of himself for doing so and he hated leaving Alfor to fight a losing battle. But all Lotor would be was a hindrance if he stayed, and Lotor knew Alfor managing to run away from Zarkon would be impossible. His fath - Zarkon was simply too single minded to let both of them escape.

His right side burned like it was on fire, his limbs unable to properly move from the pain.

Somehow that hurt less than his chest and he had only bruised the ribs during the fight. It shouldn’t have hurt so badly or been so difficult to breathe.

Alfor would die. He would die by his no-longer Father’s hand and if Lotor had been smarter, it could have been all prevented. Maybe if he had lain a false trail, Zarkon could have been lead away from the castle of lions without Lotor needing to fight him.

Lotor knew that wouldn’t have worked; Zarkon was aware of where the Castle of Lions was on Altea. That was why he had landed his ship so close to it, barely a few dobashes out by speeder.

The red lion purred and Lotor felt tears fall down his face as uncle Alfor’s lion flew him away from Altea. For the first time in a long time, Lotor cried; cried for the pain he was in, cried for the people of Altea, for Alfor. How could he tell Allura that he had managed to survive, but her father had most likely perished? How could he tell Coran?

He didn’t notice when the red lion landed on the Castle of Lions somewhere in the far reaches of the galaxy. He barely noticed when Coran came running to the pilot’s seat, his hands prodding Lotor gently, trying to avoid the numerous cuts and burns.

“Oh, my Prince,” Coran said softly before gathering Lotor up in his arms. Through a haze of tear stained eyes, Lotor saw an earpiece in Coran’s ear, his communication device which was still blinking on. “Come, into a cyropod for you. It’ll only be a short while, and then Allura, you and I can figure out our next steps. Between the three of us, we’ll think of something.” Coran kept babbling as he carried Lotor through the castle halls.

“Allura?” Lotor murmured as they passed a cyropod holding her inside.

“Absolutely fine,” Coran said as he placed Lotor inside an empty pod, ignoring how Lotor winced as he was jostled. “Sleep now, Prince Lotor. Sleep and heal.”

Lotor didn’t have time to say anything to Coran before the door hissed shut and he felt himself drifting off.

Maybe he would wake to find this was all a dream.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> And here we find, that the only that has changed is that Lotor is now in a prime position to join the VLD crew at the beginning.... because he's stuck in the castle with Coran and Allura, and has no choice in the matter. I may actually expand on this at a later time, how things change at the start of Voltron if Lotor was there from the very beginning helping them out.


End file.
